


Deja Vu

by VoteSaxon45



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, F/M, John Simm - Freeform, Lucy Saxon - Freeform, NSFW, Rape/Non-con Elements, SimmMaster, The Master (Simm) - Freeform, The Master Has Issues (Doctor Who), doctor who - Freeform, the Master - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 01:05:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17909096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoteSaxon45/pseuds/VoteSaxon45
Summary: Lucy was captured instead of killed during the End of Time, and the Master figures she deserves to pay.





	Deja Vu

She felt the woman's gentle hand on her hair, stroking it softly. Lucy kept her eyes closed blissfully, basking in the simple sensation of touch. She couldn't remember the last time someone touched her other than to beat or harass her. 

The hand on her hair was oddly cool, in a sickeningly familiar way that she couldn't quite put her finger on. When Lucy tried to lift her head to get a look at the woman, a firm hand was on her cheek, holding her down on the pillow. "Hush, now, my love," a gentle Scottish accent cooed. "It isn't time."

Lucy closed her eyes, oddly at peace. "Time for what?" she murmured sleepily.

"Don't be scared, love. He's coming for you. He'll find you." The woman leaned in close, until her lips brushed against Lucy's ear and her cool breath tickled her hair. "Remember who you belong to."

 

As always, she awoke inside a cold gray cube with nothing but a bed hanging on chains from the wall and a thick, hostile iron door with a blocked out window. Light crept in from the sliver of space between the bottom of the door and the floor. This morning, there was a nauseous, sinking feeling in her gut and a quiet tugging at the back of her mind, insisting something was very wrong.

In a short time, the iron door was hauled open with a deafening squeal, and two heavily armed men with guarded faces stomped toward her and grabbed her by the tiny wrists. They hauled her out of her cell, to the solitary shower block, to her morning meal, and then to a room she had never been in before.

After being here almost a year, Lucy had grown accustomed to the routine. Nothing broke the routine, until today. 

This new room made Lucy nervous. Eyes as wide as a frightened deer, she regarded the room with suspicion until the door on the other end opened and someone stepped through. It was Mrs. Trefusis, the governor of the prison whom Lucy had seen once or twice - during her admittance to the prison, and once just walking around and attending to business while Lucy had been eating in the empty cafeteria. 

The severe woman regarded tiny, frightened Lucy with hard eyes. She had the coldness of a scaly, slithering snake and her gaze made Lucy shiver.

"Mrs. Saxon," the governor began with a tight-lipped and humorless smile. "I'm afraid your time has come."

Fighting back tears of rage and terror, Lucy balled her tiny hands into pale little fists and stared Mrs. Trefusis down defiantly. "My time for what? What's going on? Can I leave? I told you all what happened, what REALLY happened, can I go?"

"Mrs. Saxon, I don't think you'll be going anywhere for a very long time."

 

Through the torrent of wind and the screams of his dying disciples, Lucy almost didn't notice him. Almost. But there he was - oh God - in a vortex of life-giving power, looking down at her with those eyes so full of fire and entrails and darkness. Now, she could feel the power of those eyes surging through her, setting her nerves and blood alight, and she fell to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks and her mouth hanging open in a hopeless 'o'. 

She felt him say her name before the word even left his lips. 

"Lucy," he gasped, chest heaving with new breath. "Oh, Lucy! How long I've waited to see you, my darling."

Her legs refused to work, she couldn't stand or run if she wanted to. Her throat felt too tight, she couldn't scream at her accomplice to throw the death potion. Luckily, her accomplice saw her opportunity and threw the potion as hard as she could.

The last thing Lucy saw was the Master's eyes, digging into her mind like fingernails, alight with fury and hatred and betrayal.

 

Head pounding, Lucy awoke with a groan. As she blinked her eyes, she discovered she couldn't see anything due to the lack of light in this room. Her ankles and wrists were tied rather tightly and anchored to a lumpy bed beneath her. 

A door behind her head opened. She craned her neck to see a figure stepping into the room. The door closed behind him, plunging the room into blackness once more. His gentle, soft footsteps could be heard approaching her, and then the rustle of fabric as he knelt down next to her. 

Her breath came shaky with anticipation and she wildly, blindly tried to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness so she could at least see him.

"Lucy, Lucy, Lucy," he tutted softly, reaching out a hand to stroke her long, messy hair. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Miss me?"

Recoiling from his touch, she whimpered and shook her head, praying the darkness wouldn't betray her.

After a moment of waiting for her answer, the Master shook his head and clicked his tongue. He stood and walked a bit away from her, and then she was blinded as he flicked the light on. While she blinked frantically to adjust to the brightness, he stepped toward her again. "I'm sure you did. I know I missed you."

She heard something unzipping and her breath failed to escape her throat. Terror wrapped a hand around her chest and squeezed tight; the light faded to normal and she saw him, properly, for the first time. He didn't look good. His hair was scruffy, dirty, and blonde, matching the rough stubble on his chin and cheeks. His hands and fingernails were disgusting, which was incredibly unlike him. On top of that, he wore a black hoodie and dirty black jeans and workboots, with only a sliver of red t-shirt beneath the hoodie. All of this caught Lucy off guard, she couldn't believe she was seeing him like this.

The Master she knew was obsessed with cleanliness and appearances. His hair was always trimmed and styled, fingernails clean and cut, suit sharp and pressed. Lucy couldn't even remember ever seeing stubble on his chin before now. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, which were terrifyingly wild. His eyes had always been frightening and vicious, but this was something entirely different. There was something primal about him now.

He reached forward and took a lock of her hair, twisting it between his fingers. "You were such a good girl," he whispered. "You did so good for me. Until today. What happened, Lu? I thought you were going to be mine forever."

Lucy hissed and spit in his face. A wave of fear washed over her after that, and she cursed herself for being so bold. He used to love punishing her, now she wondered exactly how far he would go this time - she had betrayed him. 

His lips curled into a horrible, gut-wrenching, toothy smile and he wiped the glob of spit off of his cheek. "I can break you again, Lucy. It was so pathetically easy the first time, I'm sure it'll just be a blast this time." He reached down and unzipped his jeans. Lucy felt bile rise to the back of her throat; that sound was so sickeningly familiar she felt tears stinging her eyes against her will and her heart started to race. 

He hummed darkly as he pushed his jeans down just enough and straddled her. Now, tears streamed down Lucy's cheeks and she let herself give in to the temptation. She knew one of his weaknesses was begging. "Master, please!" she finally choked. "Please, please don't, I don't want to, please not again!"

The Master licked his lips with a huge, predatory grin and reached down to pinch her sensitive areas hard. Lucy whimpered and tried to squirm away from him, but the cuffs around her wrists and ankles kept her in place. "You remembered," he growled softly in her ear. "I like that."

A metallic, claustrophobic feeling seized her stomach and squeezed all the way up her throat when she realized he had no intention of stopping, and nothing she could say or do would make him stop. "I'm guessing it's been a while for you too," he chuckled, roughly shoving a dirty finger into her. 

Lucy cried out in sudden pain and arched her back, desperately squirming on the bed to get away from his invasive touch. 

She heard him moan as he started to work his finger inside of her. "Oh, I did miss this. There are some things you take for granted when you're dead." He gave her a sickening wink. "Of course, this would be a lot better for you if you hadn't decided to take things into your own hands. That has never been your purpose, Lucy."

He removed his finger from her and pressed something bigger into her. "You should know by now that you are to do as you're told and wait patiently," he grunted as Lucy whimpered in pain beneath him, her head turned away from him in shame. "My plan included you, darling. It disappoints me that I can't reward you."

A wave of pain ripped through Lucy, pain worse than what was happening between her legs, pain that sent her into blindness for a terrifying moment. As her sight returned to her, she saw the Master flash blue for a moment. Instead of a face above her was a gruesome, horrifying sight - his bones and muscles shone through his skin for just a few moments. Lucy screamed at those lidless eyes, staring down at her without blinking or moving. Fear overwhelmed her and she thrashed as hard as she could beneath him, screaming and sobbing in terror. 

He smacked her violently, bringing the back of his hand down hard against her cheek. "Shut the fuck up," he hissed in her face as he took a handful of her hair and gave a painful thrust. "Stay fucking still!" He slammed her head down against the bed hard enough to send her thoughts swimming. 

When the Master finished, he pulled out of her and wiped himself off on her bare skin before tucking himself back into his trousers and looking down at the helpless girl smugly. "And," he called over his shoulder as he left the room. "There's more where that came from."

 

Lucy was surprised when the door opened less than ten minutes later. She sobbed quietly, squeezing her eyes shut and trying not to focus on the dry, throbbing pain between her legs. There was a cold hand on her thigh and her eyes jerked open to see the Master's grinning face, but he was wearing different clothes. This time, he was wearing a white button-up collared shirt beneath a pastel green vest and matching trousers. Lucy never thought the Master would be caught dead in an outfit as atrocious as that.

He stepped toward her, unfastening the ugly green trousers with a horrible, painted-on smile. 

"Master," Lucy whimpered, tears welling in her eyes again. "Please, not again, I can't... it hurts..."

"Wasn't me," the Master grunted simply as he settled between her legs. Lucy desperately jerked at her cuffs, trying to push him away or escape or ANYTHING that would get her away from here, but it was all in vain. He entered her, used her, and left with some cutting words and a cold laugh. 

 

She couldn't understand the clothes. Why would he change his clothes so often? Every time he came to visit her, he was wearing something different than before, and even more ridiculous sometimes. He had even violated her while wearing a pink dress and heels, which seemed sick even for him. Sometimes the clothes were several sizes too big for him, and sometimes they were so small it looked like they would rip if he moved. The most strange thing is that he didn't seem to care at all about how absolutely stupid he looked sometimes. 

Every day, he started the day off in the same outfit - the black hoodie and jeans with red shirt. He always started the day by chatting with her a bit about things that never really made sense. Whatever the potion of Death was, it had affected him in some way or another, even though he hadn't actually died. He liked to talk about food, although sometimes it seemed to make his mind snap. 

Today, instead of going straight to his favorite part and talking during, he sat next to her dirty mattress and stared at her for a long time. His eyes looked lost. "I was surprised when you didn't change," he started quietly. "But I figured it out. It was me. My imprint. You're not 100% human anymore, you have some Time Lord stuff floating in you."

Lucy cringed at the thought of what exactly his "Time Lord stuff" was. She looked up at him with frightened eyes, not daring to say a word. 

"We've been having so much fun, though," he said with a grin. "All of us. And there's many more to come."

He understood that Lucy didn't understand and got up to open the door. Three figures stepped inside, and Lucy's blood froze as soon as she registered their faces. They were all him, all the same man, in different clothes as if they'd simply woken up in them. There was green sweater one, pink dress, and one of them was dressed as one of her guards from Broadfell. They all stared at her with the same wicked eyes, the same hungry grin, the same rugged face with a stubble-darkened chin. 

Now, she understood perfectly. She was the last human on Earth - that she knew of - and the Master couldn't possibly keep all his clones happy without some entertainment. And here she was, dinner and a show. 

"You're such a good girl," the black hoodie Master murmured, stroking her tear-stained cheeks. 

 

The same face above her, over and over and over. The same face, different man, same man, different face. Everything blurred together when she only had one thing to look at. Day after day after day after day, she had no clue how long she'd been there, just long enough to drown in a sea of the same face, the same laugh and the same voice and even his scent was the same, everything was different and nothing changed. Lucy had long stopped crying. She stopped feeling anything, or maybe her mind forced itself to dull the pain. The days whirled in front of her eyes in a blur, just face after face after face, all the same. It was maddening. She felt her sanity slipping away every time they forced themselves inside of her, every time they stood and spat on her just for fun, every time she looked into those horrible, fiery eyes. 

Eventually, the real Master stopped showing up. She was too broken, used, and dirty for him now.


End file.
